


Yanny-va-too'ah

by Zemmiphobia



Series: Fools Rush In [3]
Category: The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Child!Tonto, Childhood, Death, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:11:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zemmiphobia/pseuds/Zemmiphobia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A single moment can change a person's fate, setting him on a path both tragic and beautiful. All children must grow up. A look at Tonto's life before the massacre and how he became the crazy man who saved John Reid's life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yanny-va-too'ah

Pah'choko-to'vt crawled through the bushes as silently as he could, his soft leather moccasins muffling his steps. In front of him his prey dipped into the river, preening at the reflection in the water. Careful not to alert the other to his presence, Pah'choko-to'vt hunched in the shadows and waited for his chance. A small moment of distraction was his opening and without warning, he pounced! Per'na-pe'ta let out a squeal as she went tumbling into the water, braids flying out behind her. Her brother laughed, nimbly avoiding the same fate, and raced away before she could climb out of the river. Sputtering in fury, she threw a rock at him, missing by inches, and took off after him.  
“You horrible child!” She shouted, refusing to let him escape her. “I'm going hold your face into the mud, Cochso-que'tah!” Pah'choko-to'vt laughed, ignoring the furious girl. His long hair was a wave behind him and Pécui, his pet crow, flew high above the camp, laughing at his trick. Per'na-pe'ta might be the fastest girl but she had nothing on Pah'choko-to'vt.  
There was no way she would cat—

Per'na-pe'ta tackled him from behind, sending them both sprawling into the dirt. Already wet from the river, the dirt clung to his sister, giving her a demon-like appearance. Quicker than Pah'choko-to'vt thought possible, his twin jumped on top of him and pressed his face into the ground. Using her knees to pin his shoulders, he was unable to throw her off.  
“You're as heavy as a horse!” He shouted through a mouthful of dirt. “Get off me!”  
“Ask nicely, tami, or I'll sit here until dark!”  
Across from where the siblings were wrestling sat two old women, watching them over their sewing. They laughed at Pah'choko-to'vt's misfortune and clucked at Per'na-pe'ta's boyishness.  
“She acts like a warrior.” Mumbled one, shaking her head at the shouting.  
“Next she'll ask to go on a hunt. Cha-na'woonit should speak with her before she forgets she's a woman.” Said the other, smiling as Pah'choko-to'vt managed to flip his sister over and escape.  
“Go finish your cooking, patsi!” He shouted over his shoulder as he disappeared back into the trees. Per'na-pe'ta slowed to a stop and watched him go, bristling. She had forgotten about dinner. Muttering to herself about revenge, she heading back to the stream to wash off. Pah'choko-to'vt better watch himself tonight, he had to sleep sometime.

Far outside of the camp, Pah'choko-to'vt slowed to a stop and held out his arm for Pécui to land. He brushed his finger down the bird's breast and smiled at him. Today's hunt was a success. Pah'choko-to'vt wished his father would allow him to go on a buffalo hunt but no matter how much he begged, Ahpʉ refused to believe he was old enough. He had seen twelve summers! More than enough time to become a hunter. Frowning at this injustice, Pah'choko-to'vt headed back towards camp. Per'na-pe'ta had probably returned home by now and it would be safe. Sure enough, when he poked his head around a tipi, his sister was nowhere to be found. Grinning, Pah'choko-to'vt headed for his grandfather's home.  
“Kʉnu!” He called, opening up the tipi flap and peering into the gloom. “Where are you?” Que-nah-tosavit looked up from the stew he was eating.  
“Pah'choko.” He said, his wrinkles widening as he smiled at his favorite grandson. “I heard you and your sister fighting. Did you rub horse dung into her braids again?”  
“No!” Said Pah'choko-to'vt, pretending to be offended. “I would never do that to my honored sister.” He ruined the serious effect by bursting out in laughter and falling down next to the older man. “I may have accidentally pushed her into the river.” His grandfather let out a reluctant chuckle and set his bowl down.  
“You should be kinder to Per'na-pe'ta. She makes your food and sleeps next to you. It will be easy for her to get her revenge.”  
Pah'choko-to'vt rolled his eyes. “I know! She filled my bed with sticky burrs last night. When I woke up I looked like a baby arʉka!” Que-nah-tosavit hmmed noncommittally and waited for his grandson to speak his mind. Pah'choko-to'vt fell silent and stared moodily at the opening at the top of the tipi.  
“Ahpʉ said I couldn't ride with the hunters tomorrow.” He finally said, childish impatience coloring his words. Que-nah-tosavit said nothing and after a moment, Pah'choko-to'vt let lose all the words he had been holding in. “I can hunt a buffalo! I know I can, Pécui and I hunt in the grass every day. I'm taller than even Cha-ten-a-yack'e and he's sixteen summers. Kʉnu, what do I have to do to make Ahpʉ let me hunt with him?”

Que-nah-tosavit studied his grandson. He knew that the boy was becoming increasingly more demanding and Ka'sa-na'vo was starting to lose patience with his youngest son. It was not easy being the younger brother to two older boys who had both earned the right to go to war before their fifteenth summer. Even Cha-na'woonit, the most patient woman Que-nah-tosavit had ever met, was tired of Pah'choko's restless energy. He took a handful of dried nuts and chewed thoughtfully as Pah'choko-to'vt waited for an answer.  
“Perhaps hunting hens in the grass is not enough to prove you are a hunter, little one.” Que-nah-tosavit said. Pah'choko-to'vt twitched but did not speak. “A larger kill would be more impressive.”  
“But Kʉnu!” Burst out Pah'choko-to'vt impatiently. “I'm not allowed to take the horses past the bend in the river! There isn't any large game here.” Que-nah-tosavit waited until his grandson was calm, letting the boy simmer. He held an old shirt of his up to the light and fingered a worn spot with practiced indifference.  
“I've been meaning to get some new hide for Ta'by-yetch. Your huutsi has been nagging me about not having enough to make a new shirt. I think she is embarrassed to have such a battered husband.”  
“I can do it! I can get you a deer!” Pah'choko-to'vt said excitedly, nearly knocking his crow over in his enthusiasm. Que-nah-tosavit pretended to think about this.  
“You could.” He said, rubbing his chin in thought. “But... no, you can't leave the camp. I suppose I will have to wait.”  
“No!” Said Pah'choko-to'vt desperately, not noticing his grandfather's amusement. “I could go with you! We could hunt together!” Que-nah-tosavit laughed and thumped him on the back.  
“A clever idea, Pah'choko. I will speak to your Ahpʉ and see if we can leave tomorrow.” Pah'choko-to'vt grinned at him, almost bursting with pride. He threw his arms around the old man, laughing, and darted off to brag to Per'na-pe'ta. Que-nah-tosavit rubbed his sore ribs and chuckled. Had he ever been that young?

00000

Cha-na'woonit loved all her children equally which was good since they were all so different. If anyone had asked her which one was the most difficult to love, however, it would probably be her little tonto. Never still, never silent, unless he was sleeping. Like a butterfly, he was always moving from one thing to the next, barely pausing for breath. She wasn't sure where this trait had come from. No one else in the family had his energy, not even his twin. Per'na-pe'ta might squabble but she could at least sit down for more than a moment before getting up again. So she wasn't surprised when Pah'choko-to'vt raced up to her tipi, bird flapping on his shoulder, and his sister hot on his heels. “Pia! Pia!” Cha-na'woonit looked up from the shirt she was making for her eldest son and smiled as the youngest slid to a halt in front of her.  
“Kaarʉ! Where is the fire?” She said, laughing. “What has you so crazy?” Pah'choko-to'vt grinned from ear to ear and sat down in front of her, heedless of his sister who almost tripped over him in her haste.  
“Kʉnu is going to take me hunting tomorrow! He said we can go looking for deer!”  
“Just the two of you?” Cha-na'woonit asked, eyebrows raised. “What for?”  
“We're going to prove that I'm ready to hunt for buffalo.”

Cha-na'woonit frowned. Pah'choko-to'vt was twelve, at least three winters away from being ready to hunt for the huge, dangerous beasts that roamed the plains. No one younger than fifteen was allowed to attempt the hunt because the death rate was so high. One misstep and a young man might never return or at the very least be crippled for life.  
“Did Que-nah-tosavit say this?” Pah'choko-to'vt huffed in annoyance at her lack of excitement.  
“No.” He admitted sulkily. “He wants leather for a new shirt.” Cha-na'woonit thought about the pile of shirts Ta'by-yetch had just finished for her husband and smiled. It was obvious that the older man was simply trying to rein in Pah'choko-to'vt's wildness with safer, smaller tasks that would keep him entertained until he reached his adulthood. She pulled Pah'choko-to'vt into a hug and pressed her lips to his black hair. “How fortunate that he needed to hunt. I'm sure you will make him proud.” Pah'choko-to'vt allowed her to hold him for a brief moment and then squirmed free, already standing and darting around the tipi.  
“I have to get ready!”

Cha-na'woonit and Per'na-pe'ta watched him for a moment, both filled with feminine amusement. Per'na-pe'ta glanced at her mother, smiling.  
“He looks happy.” She said softly so her brother couldn't overhear.  
“Yes. He has been quiet of late and it was beginning to worry me.”  
“You mean quiet when he wasn't pushing me into the river, tying my dress in knots, hiding my needle...” She trailed off with a laugh. Cha-na'woonit ran a hand over her daughter's hair and sighed. In many ways, despite their twin birth, Per'na-pe'ta was much more mature than her brother. Sometimes she wished they had both inherited that sense.  
“He will grow quickly and you will miss his games.” Per'na-pe'ta snorted but did not disagree.  
“Do you think this trip will be good for him? If they don't catch anything he will be disappointed. He might become even worse with his begging to go on the hunt.”  
“If they fail he will probably become too embarrassed to even speak to your father.” The two of them giggled into their hands and watched Pah'choko-to'vt throw things into his leather bag. “Either way, we will finally get some peace!”

00000

The next morning the horses were packed and ready to go almost before the sun had risen. Que-nah-tosavit was on his horse and waiting but Pah'choko-to'vt was still on the ground, patiently waiting for his mother to finish saying goodbye.  
“My little tonto, be good to Kʉnu and listen to what he tells you.”  
“Yes, Pia. I will listen.” Said Pah'choko-to'vt fidgeting while she ran her hands over his hair one last time. As soon as he thought he could, he jumped away and scrabbled onto his own horse. “See you soon!” He said, waving. Cha-na'woonit took the hint and stepped back to let them leave. Turning the horses towards the river, they left her standing at the edge of the camp, watching them go.

When the campsite was far behind them and the sun high in the sky, Que-nah-tosavit guided them to a shady spot to rest.  
“How are you feeling?” He asked his grandson. Pah'choko-to'vt was obviously feeling sore from their long ride. Despite his accomplishments in riding, he had never been in the saddle this long. The boy, sensing that he might lose out on his hunting trip, straightened up quickly.  
“I feel fine, Kʉnu. A ride like this is nothing.” He smiled and sat beside the older man, pulling out his bag of seeds to feed Pécui. Que-nah-tosavit smiled and let the matter drop.  
“We should reach the lake by nightfall. It will be good to get a full night's sleep before we start hunting tomorrow morning.”  
“That quickly?” Pah'choko-to'vt asked, surprised. He had thought they were going much farther away.  
“Yes. It is a good place for deer. My grandfather took me there as a boy, a very long time ago.” Pah'choko-to'vt thought about this. It was hard to imagine his old, wrinkled Kʉnu as a child.  
“Did you catch anything?” He asked aloud. The older man laughed.  
“No. I was even younger than you and when I went to shoot, my bow snapped and my arrow hit my Kʉnu in the backside instead of the deer. We had to go home quickly after that.” Pah'choko-to'vt laughed, delighted at this new story.  
“What did he say?”  
“If I told you, your pia would skin me alive!”  
“Was that the last time he took you hunting? He must have been angry with you.” Que-nah-tosavit rubbed his chin thoughtfully and smiled softly.  
“No. We took many trips together. There were no taibo then and we had much more freedom to roam the hills.”  
“I hate the taibo.” Muttered Pah'choko-to'vt. “They are always shouting and their children howl like coyotes.”  
“The world is changing, Pah'choko. Soon the hills will be filled with taibo and the Comanche will be small. We must adapt to this or we will die.”  
“Why? Why can't we go into the mountains and leave them behind?”  
“They will not stop until they cover the whole world, Pah'choko.” Que-nah-tosavit said sadly, standing. “Come. The sun is not so hot now and we still have a long way to go.” Pah'choko-to'vt allowed him to pull him to his feet and followed his Kʉnu with mind full of thoughts.

00000

The spot that Que-nah-tosavit had picked for their first hunting trip was beautiful. The lake was a small one, but was fed by a slender waterfall of melted snow. The water on the other side flowed out into a smaller river that would eventually join the larger one that ran next to their camp. The trees were large with age and probably overdue for a fire to clear away the dead brush. Most importantly, at least as far as Pah'choko-to'vt was concerned, was that the forest was so full of deer they had stumbled across six before they had even set up camp. It was a bright eyed Pah'choko-to'vt who followed his grandfather out into the woods when the sun's light first appeared over the mountains. Silent, they traveled through the trees, watching for any prey. Despite the abundance of the day before, it was midday before they found any deer. By this point they had climbed so high that they could look down and see the entire lake from above.

It was Pah'choko-to'vt who first spotted the young buck, feeding calmly in a field. Quickly, he cocked his bow and waited for the right moment to shoot. Que-nah-tosavit waited silently behind him, watching with a proud smile. This was it, Pah'choko-to'vt thought; this was his moment to prove that he was a man. He prepared to let loose the arrow when suddenly the buck's head shot up and his ears swiveled forward. The creature wasn't looking towards them; it was staring intently into the dark shadows on the other side of the clearing. It snorted in fear, squealed and darted away before Pah'choko-to'vt could even think to try and hit it. Disappointment flooded him and he felt tears prick his eyes. Que-nah-tosavit laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed comfortingly. Next time, it said. Pah'choko-to'vt nodded and started to turn around when a cracking noise made them both freeze. The stayed silent, unwilling to give away their position, and watched as the largest bear Pah'choko-to'vt had ever seen lumbered into the clearing where the buck had been only moments ago.

The beast was huge. Standing, it would dwarf even his grandfather and its head was large enough that Pah'choko-to'vt thought it might eat him whole. He sucked in a sharp breath and felt his body tense for flight. Only Que-nah-tosavit's hand on his shoulder prevented him from running and startling the bear into attacking them. Quietly, the older man pulled a long knife out of a strap and held it in front of them. Bears did not often attack humans. As a species, they usually preferred to run when they came across people unless they felt threatened. A mother, for example, might protect cubs. It was likely that this bear would ignore them and simply follow the deer it was hunting. Almost as soon as the thought appeared in his mind, the bear shook its head wildly and looked directly at them. It roared, sounding frenzied, and tossed its head again.  
“Up the tree.” Que-nah-tosavit whispered in his ear, urging him up the tall pine tree. “Stay up there until I tell you to come down.” Pah'choko-to'vt didn't even think to argue. He slipped up the branches until he was looking down at the top of his grandfather's head.

The bear stood up on its hind legs and roared again, challenging. Something was wrong with it, a distant part of Pah'choko-to'vt mind said. It looked injured, its side crusted with dried blood. Que-nah-tosavit started to back slowly away, his eyes never leaving the bear. He was too heavy to climb onto the thin branches of the pine trees and not strong enough to leap for the stronger oak trees. His only option was to move away from the beast until it was satisfied that he wasn't a threat. Hopefully the bear wouldn't attack.

 

Without warning, the bear charged kunu, almost knocking him off his feet. Pah'choko-to'vt screamed as his Kʉnu fell, scrambling to get away from the teeth snapping at his arm. The huge jaw closed on his shoulder, teeth sawing through muscle and bone. Que-nah-tosavit shouted in pain and drove his knife into the bear's eye, lodging it into the bear's brain. Now roaring in agony and fury, the bear drove forward in another attack and closed around the old man's skull, biting through flesh and shaking before the wound caught up with him and the brain shut down. For a moment everything was still and it seemed that nothing, not even Pah'choko-to'vt breathed. Then with a cry, the boy threw himself to the ground and raced to the unmoving pile of blood and fur. Pushing with all his strength, he shoved the bear off Que-nah-tosavit, tears streaming unchecked down his face.  
“Kʉnu! Kʉnu!” He cried like a child in a nightmare. There was a wet cough and Que-nah-tosavit opened one undamaged eye. It was full of pain.  
“Pah'choko.” He said hoarsely. He twitched his arm but was unable to raise it from the ground. The other was a tattered mess of torn flesh and blood.  
“Nonono.” Howled Pah'choko-to'vt. “You can't die! Please don't leave.”  
“Leave me here.” Que-nah-tosavit said softly, broken. “Go back to the village and bring your father back here. He will know what to do.”  
“No! I won't leave you!”  
“Pah'choko-to'vt!”  
“Please.” Pah'choko-to'vt whispered, unable to stop crying. Dimly, it occurred to him that he must look like a baby but he didn't care.  
“It is a good death.” Que-nah-tosavit whispered and closed his eyes. Pah'choko-to'vt stared at him in horror and then shook his shoulder, trying to wake him. When his Kʉnu stayed limp, Pah'choko-to'vt threw his head back and howled like a dog. It was a lost little boy who rode in silence back to his tribe, covered in his Kʉnu's blood.

00000

When his father rode away with Que-nah-tosavit's body to find a proper burial spot, Pah'choko-to'vt didn't say a word. In fact, he stopped speaking altogether as if his voice had died with his beloved Kʉnu. No one tried to make him talk; they understood his mourning even if they whispered behind their hands that Que-nah-tosavit's soul had taken Pah'choko-to'vt's with him. Ka'sa-na'vo hadn't said anything to his son, leaving the boy to his mother who wrapped him in hugs and warm words. Numb, Pah'choko-to'vt ignored this. He had seen death before. Warriors often returned with missing numbers and accidents were common on the trail. It was the first time; however, that someone had died because of him. This alone closed Pah'choko-to'vt throat to tighten and threatened to make him cry when he thought no one was looking. Per'na-pe'ta was the only one who seemed to understand. She didn't try and make him feel better or talk to him about their grandfather. She simply sat next to him and watched as he feed Pécui in silence. When the mourning was done and all of Que-nah-tosavit's belongings were buried, the two of them sat alone under a tree and stared at nothing. Slowly, without a word, her hand closed over his and squeezed. He didn't squeeze back.

00000

Pah'choko-to'vt knew that his family was starting to worry. In the days following Que-nah-tosavit's death, he had yet to speak to anyone and despite their understanding words; he could see the fear inside their eyes. Maybe his soul really had left and he was just a shell. He wasn't sure but he had taken to walking farther and farther away from camp in an effort to escape the stares. He thought that he might just walk until he disappeared. No one ever came with him except for his crow. The bird couldn't talk and made for a good companion. Sometimes he took a horse and rode until he couldn't feel his body anymore, becoming a part of the animal beneath him. It was on one of these rides that he came across the battle.  
It was over by the time he reached it, nothing but torn, bloody grass and bodies to mark the battlefield. Taibo, their bodies limp and unmoving, lay rotting in the run as their comrades rode east. Pah'choko-to'vt, numb, found that he couldn't bring himself to care that they were unburied and obviously unloved. He picked over the field, looking at the guns and swords that littered the ground like trash. Sightless eyes reflected his passing but nothing reached out to him. Just when he thought about heading home and informing the elders that a battle had happened so close to their home, a groan cut across the still air. It was soft, barely audible except for the fact that Pah'choko-to'vt was so quiet himself. Curious, the boy turned and followed the noise. Laying together, their bodies twisted, two men breathed pained, shallow puffs into the cold air. They would die soon, Pah'choko-to'vt thought, when their wounds finally bled out. He turned away, ready to go home, and then stopped.  
They would die. He thought again, looking back at them in indecision. They would die and no one would care to bury them under stones and mourn for them. Despite the carnage around him, the thousands of bodies already gone, this struck him as terribly sad. He walked back to the first man and bent down to look at him. Kʉnu had said they must adapt. Pah'choko-to'vt made his choice in that moment and started to work at getting the two adults onto his horse.  
Perhaps it was time to start adapting.

000ooo000

THE END

Translations:

Yanny-va-too'ah: 'Laughing child'.

Pah'choko-to'vt: 'Black Otter'

Per'na-pe'ta: 'Only Daughter'

Cochso-que'tah: 'cow dung'

Pécui: 'Fish'

tami: ' younger brother'

Cha-na'woonit: 'Beautiful to look at'

patsi: 'older sister'

ahpʉ: 'father'

kʉnu: 'paternal grandfather'

Que-nah-tosavit: 'White Eagle'

arʉka: 'deer'

Cha-ten-a-yack'e: 'Good Crier'

Ka'sa-na'vo: 'Painted Feather'

Ta'by-yetch: 'Sunrise'

huutsi: 'paternal grandmother'

pia: 'mother'

kaarʉ: 'Sit down'

taibo: White people

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you have enjoyed this glimpse into Tonto's childhood. I feel like he must have had a happy childhood before everything went wrong for him. I wanted to capture his crazy personality before he actually went crazy. No smoke without fire, right? Please tell me what you think!


End file.
